


My Sad Song for You

by nightlight9



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Getting Together, M/M, Violinist Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24922027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlight9/pseuds/nightlight9
Summary: As always, it’s impossible to look away from the magic unfolding before him. Derek is beautiful. Stiles doesn’t know much about him aside from his name and his ability to draw emotion from strings, but he can’t help but fall a little in love every time he watches him play.----------In which Stiles is more than a little enamored with Derek and his violin, and Derek may be just be a little enamored with Stiles himself.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 12
Kudos: 92





	My Sad Song for You

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” Harley calls as he comes into the back to pick up an order. Stiles blinks over at him from his work bench, confusion evident on his face. “It’s almost one.”

The words take a moment to settle, but when they do Stiles falls out of his chair, careful not to mess up the icing rows that he had been working on. “I’m late!” Ripping his apron off and collecting his lunch bag from the staff fridge, Stiles dashes out of the kitchen into the main store. “I can’t believe I’m late!”

The few customers that are sitting in the café enjoying their lunch ignore Stiles’ exclamation. They are used to his quirks and loud personality, so the outburst is nothing new. They hardly notice him now, and if they do, they just shake their heads, smile fondly, and turn back to their food without complaint. 

Harley watches him go with a smile and a small laugh. He hopes that he isn’t late. If Stiles misses him, then he’ll be insufferable the rest of the day, and it’s never good for anyone when Stiles is upset. Besides, he thinks, twirling his wedding ring around his finger, love is one of those funny things that everyone should have a chance at finding. If this is Stiles’ chance, then Harley wishes him the best.

Luckily it doesn’t take long for Stiles to run across the park to the pavilion where, in one corner of the grassy slope, Derek is already playing. As always, there are a few people crowded around watching as he plays his violin like it’s the only thing that exists in the world. 

Satisfied that he didn’t miss him, Stiles takes his regular spot under a tree a few feet away. In this spot, he’s close enough to get to watch him play, but he doesn’t get in the way of the foot traffic that the soothing violin beckons. 

Sighing, Stiles tucks into his lunch, letting Derek’s melody wrap around him. As always, it’s impossible to look away from the magic unfolding before him. Derek is beautiful. Stiles doesn’t know much about him aside from his name and his ability to draw emotion from strings, but he can’t help but fall a little in love every time he watches him play. It doesn’t help that, with dark hair, a perfect beard, and eyes that Stiles can’t even begin to describe, Derek is the most attractive person that Stiles has ever seen, and he’s not exaggerating either. Even Lydia agrees with him, and she’s held that position since he was little. 

Stiles assumes that Derek must be in a good mood today; the song that he’s playing has a lively beat. It makes Stiles happy. The last few days there was something morose in the songs Derek was playing, and even though Stiles loves feeling his heart escape his chest when Derek plays ballads, it’s good to see him happier. 

A young girl pulls away from her mother as they walk by, dashing over to where Derek is swaying gently with the music in spite of her mother’s frantic calls. When she reaches him, the little girl stares up in awe as he plays, her eyes wide and round and impressed in the way that only kids can be. Derek notices her there and bends down to play for her specifically, the moment drawing his lips up into a breathtaking smile. The urge to capture the moment has Stiles reaching for his phone. 

The picture is perfect. It captures the awe on the girl’s face and Derek’s smile. In the background, the girl’s mother stands watch. Her face is soft as she takes in the display, full of a quiet pride though minutes earlier she had been yelling at her daughter to stop running away.

When Derek finishes his song, he reaches out and shakes the little girl’s hand, listening as she prattles on about his music. The mother joins her then, thanking Derek for playing for her daughter. He laughs and Stiles is captivated by the sound. It’s not often that Derek will interact with the people who stop to listen to him play. Aside from thanking them for their time, Derek doesn’t say much at all. It’s a shame, because Stiles thinks that his voice is just as nice as his violin, and his laugh is a gift to behold. 

Stiles considers getting up and showing them all the picture he took. Before he gets the chance though, the mom is already herding her daughter in the opposite direction. Still, Stiles can’t bring himself to delete the photo. It’s probably creepy, and his dad would definitely lecture him if he ever found out. But Derek looks too happy in the picture, and Stiles can’t bear to let that go.

Gathering up his lunch bag, Stiles glances back one more time at where Derek has resumed playing. For a moment, Stiles swears that Derek is watching him leave, but he dismisses the thought. Why would Derek be watching him? He probably doesn’t even notice that Stiles stops by to watch him play while he has his lunch. In what world would someone like him ever notice someone like Stiles?

—————

Stiles can’t believe it’s raining. As if his shitty day wasn’t enough, now he has to trudge home in the rain. Honestly, he would appreciate the imagery if he wasn’t so miserable. Harley is in the hospital after a bad fall, and not having him around at work meant that, not only did Stiles have a lot more to do, he also spent the whole day worrying about whether or not the older man was alright. And on top of that, because he was so busy, Stiles wasn’t able to take his lunch until nearly four, which meant that, for the first time since he stumbled upon him in the park, Stiles missed Derek’s performance. 

It shouldn’t mean that much to him, but it does. He had been looking forward to the break, had been hoping that listening to Derek preform would calm Stiles’ nerves. But he didn’t even get that relief. 

And now it’s raining. Stiles can’t decide what he did to anger the gods this time, but whatever it was, he thinks that they should feel pretty good about their punishment. 

By the time he finally makes it back to his apartment, his hands are shaking from the cold and his worry. He calls Harley’s husband Matthew to get a status update on his boss, calls his dad just to hear his voice, and then makes himself a sandwich and calls it dinner. The pressure of the day makes the apartment feel big and lonely, so he takes his sandwich over to his balcony. It’s still raining, so he can’t really eat outside. But he opens the door anyway and settles on the floor beside it, taking comfort in the pitter patter of the rain and the far off sounds of traffic in the distance. It serves as a good reminder that there are other people out there in the world, that he isn’t all alone. 

Sitting there, it’s easy for Stiles to zone out, allowing various thoughts to surface and then fade into the background. It calms him down enough that Stiles thinks that he might actually be able to go to sleep. In fact, he’s gearing himself up to do just that when he hears the violin start to play. 

It’s a quiet sound at first, and if Stiles hadn’t spent so much time listening to Derek play, he might not have even picked up on the soft melody. Opening the balcony door wider and stepping out into the drizzle, Stiles tries to distinguish where the sound is coming from. He’s watched enough romantic comedies with Lydia that he considers the brief daydream that Derek has found him and is standing outside playing the violin to get his attention so that he can confess his love. A quick survey of the ground proves that his life is not in fact a romantic comedy. But, as Stiles steps back towards his door, ready to escape the rain, he catches sight of where the sound is coming from. In the building beside his, one floor down, Stiles can see Derek practicing in front of the open window. His back is turned, but Stiles has watched him play long enough that he recognizes his profile. 

The song he’s playing is faint, one that Stiles doesn’t recognize from his performances in the park. With the rain as its companion, the violin sounds melancholy, the tune full of longing and regret. Stiles stands out on the balcony, mindless of the fact that his hair has matted to his forehead or that his socks are soaked through. When the first song is finished, Derek leaps right into another, this one faster and more erratic. It would almost sound chaotic, except for the expert way that he keeps the rhythm. 

Stiles stands out there and listens to him play, knuckles white on his balcony ledge while he works through several more songs. Finally, with what appears to Stiles as a heavy sigh, Derek puts his violin down. Stiles watches as he bends down, disappearing from the window to appear again a moment later with the violin’s case. Shaking his head, he walks out of view, and even though Stiles waits for him to show up again, Derek is gone. Deciding that he’s been creepy enough, Stiles walks back into his apartment, shredding his wet clothes as he makes his way to the bathroom. 

He had no idea that Derek lived so close, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with that information. Aside from watching him play, Stiles has never interacted with Derek before, so going over and introducing himself would be massively weird. And watching him through the window would definitely be stalker behavior. Stepping into the shower, Stiles vows to forget about the fact that Derek lives so close. He’ll listen to him play in the park, and that’ll be that. With a nod of his head, Stiles starts washing up, trying his best not to think about Derek smiling at him with a wicked grin.

—————

Stiles keeps listening to Derek play from his apartment. He can’t help it. Harley is out of the hospital, but he’s still out of work on bedrest recovering and Stiles has been so busy keeping the café running that he keeps missing Derek’s performance. And with all the stress he’s been feeling, being able to listen to Derek’s melodies act night is the best form of stress relief. Without the rain, he can hear Derek better as he relaxes on his balcony. It’s not as good as when he sees him in the park, but it’s enough that Stiles is able to close his eyes and unwind. 

On the third night, he notices that he’s not the only person who listens to Derek play. There’s an older woman in the apartment beside Derek’s that opens her window when Derek starts practicing. Stiles watches as she settles into her chair, leans against the window and sips at her tea. 

Then there’s the younger couple in the apartment above Derek’s that will dance to his melodies, swaying softly to the rhythm he sets. They occupy the apartment right across from Stiles, and one night the man catches sight of Stiles and gives him a knowing nod. In a way, it makes Stiles feel like he’s a part of something, a community of people captivated and in awe. 

The only worrisome thing about the whole ordeal is that each night, Derek’s melodies get sadder. The stories that he weaves with his music are filled with love and heartbreak and grief. The songs themselves are beautiful, bringing both Stiles and the older woman to tears, but Stiles can’t help but worry about him a little bit. Stiles has long since figured out that Derek will play songs that express how he’s feeling, so the change is a little concerning. Especially because, when he does play a song with a higher tempo, they are more anxious and angry than joyful and fun. Still, being able to witness Derek express emotion so clearly in music is breathtaking. Every night after listening to him play, Stiles sleeps better and wakes up more refreshed. 

Stiles goes and visits Harley whenever he can, taking comfort in the fact that each day he looks stronger. After two weeks on bedrest, Harley is more than ready to come back to work, but the doctors tell him that he needs at least another week before he can go back to the café. That puts Harley in a huff, but Matthew just rolls his eyes and promises Stiles that Harley will get all the bedrest he needs and that he’ll be back before he knows it. 

Sure enough, it’s only a few days later that Harley is well enough to come and visit the shop. He’s all smiles as he interacts with the costumers, and it’s so nice having him back. To Stiles’ mild horror though, their regular customers sing Stiles’ praise, telling Harley all about how hard he’s worked and how well he’s kept the business running. 

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Stiles huffs when it’s just the two of them again, wiping down the counter absentmindedly and willing his blush away.

Harley chuckles, sipping at his tea. “It might not seem that way to you, but it is to me and our customers. This shop means everything to me. It had been my dream to own a little café like this, giving the people in town a place to slow down. It’s important to know that, even when I’m not around, it’s in good hands.”

There’s an unspoken weight there, a suggestion that Harley isn’t saying out loud but that Stiles can hear all the same. He nods a little and smiles, knowing that Stiles understands what he isn’t saying, and Stiles is blown away by it. When he had put in his application at Harley’s shop, he didn’t think that it was where he was going to stay. He had just graduated college with a business degree that he didn’t know what to do with, and it had been the first place to offer him a job. But then he had fallen in love. He began connecting with the customers, was taught how to make Harley’s signature cakes, and found a place behind the counter. The café turned out to be everything that Stiles never knew he needed, and three years later he wasn’t really planning on going anywhere else. For Harley to even suggest that Stiles might be offered the shop after he retires, it’s a mind-blowing suggestion.

Before he can fully comprehend what he’s implying, Maddie peaks her head out of the kitchen. “It’s one o’clock, Stiles,” she says, disappearing behind the door again. She’s been reminding him everyday, even though he hasn’t been able to actually take his lunch at that time in weeks. He knows that she’s just trying to be helpful, but the reminder that he’s missing Derek’s performance again makes him frown into his coffee.

Harley smiles at him from the other side of the counter. “You know, you can go. I can handle the shop while you take your lunch.”

Stiles scowls at him. “You’re still out for another week. Matthew would kill me if he knew that I let you work.”

Tilting his head back, Harley laughs. Something in Stiles’ chest unclenches at the sound. “Matt won’t kill you if he doesn’t know, and I won’t tell him. Besides, even though he acts tough, he’s a big old softie and you know it.” Standing up, Harley shuffles around the counter, taking his apron off the hook by the kitchen door. “Go. Maddie told me that you haven’t had a chance to get to the park since I’ve been gone. I’ll just man the register, there’s nothing to it. Pinky promise.”

The prospect of having his lunch in the park again is just too sweet. “You’ll stay at the register?”

He raises his right hand. “Scout’s honor. And Maddie is here to keep an eye on me. What could go wrong?”

Even though a part of him wants to argue, Stiles doesn’t. He takes his apron off and gathers his lunch. “If you get too tired, I’m just across the park, alright?”

Maddie rolls her eyes at him as she pushes out the kitchen door again, this time carrying a platter of fresh scones. “Stiles go. I’ll keep an eye on him, alright. We’ll be fine.”

Like the grown adult that he is, Stiles’ only response is to spit his tongue out at her as he moves to the door. And, because she obviously respects him so much, she does the same back. Harley’s laughter follows him as he leaves.

Strangely, Stiles is almost nervous as he makes his way across the park to his usual spot. It’s been so long since he’s been here, and even though nothing has changed, it feels like everything has. As he approaches, he can hear the soft lit from the violin. It relaxes him, knowing that Derek is still here, and he crosses over to his spot by the tree quickly, taking in Derek’s form. His eyes are closed as he plays what sounds like a sad love balled, and Stiles thinks he’s beautiful. After not seeing him up close for so long, he drinks in his form. 

Just as he’s pulling out his sandwich, Derek opens his eyes. 

In all of the weeks that Stiles watched Derek play in the park, in all of the time that he’s listened as he practiced in his apartment, he has never heard Derek falter or make a mistake. But when he opens his eyes and catches sight of Stiles under the tree, his bow screeches across the cords. He stops playing immediately, apologizing to the crowd around his blush. Then, instead of continuing to play, Derek bends down and begins the process of putting the violin away. 

Watching everything unfold, Stiles wonders if he has enough time to pack up his lunch and scurry away before Derek’s finished. But as soon as the thought crosses his mind, Derek is getting to his feet. He bows hastily at the small crowd, then locks his eyes on where Stiles is sitting, approaching at an impressive pace. 

For one horrible moment, Stiles wonders if Derek knows that Stiles has been listening to him play each night. He imagines Derek threatening him so he’ll leave him alone. Oh Gods, he’s not a fighter. Sure he talks like one, and he learned a long time ago how to take a punch, but if Derek punches him, he’ll probably pass out. His dad will be so disappointed when he gets that call. He’s going to have to move, which sucks because his apartment is only a few blocks from Harley’s shop, and the rent is pretty cheap. This is a disaster. 

Derek stands over Stiles watching him as though he expects Stiles to run. Except, Stiles doesn’t do anything except stare back. Derek eyes take catalog of Stiles’ form, darting around his body as though looking for an injury. When he’s satisfied that Stiles is alright, he scowls. 

“Where have you been?”

Stiles gaps at him. What else is he expected to do. They’ve never exchanged words before, and their acquaintance doesn’t bolster whatever this confrontation is. “I-. What?”

Derek flushes, but his scowl doesn’t go anywhere. “You haven’t been out here in weeks. Where have you been?”

Stiles gaps. It’s impossible not to. “Wait. You noticed I was gone? You noticed I was here at all?’

Derek rolls his eyes, though he looks more embarrassed than angry at this point. “You showed up at the same time practically everyday. Of course I noticed.” His eyebrows pull down. “And then suddenly you just stopped showing up at all, and when I asked some of the others about it they didn’t know where you went. I thought-.” He’s beginning to look a little sheepish. “I was worried something happened.”

Up close, Stiles can see how long his eyelashes are, how there are laugh lines by his eyes and how his front two teeth are slightly longer than the rest. It’s far more adorable than Stiles was prepared for. Something in Derek’s expressions shutters off as he waits for Stiles to say something, and now he looks like he’s ready to run away, so Stiles shoots to his feet, reaching out to stop him from leaving. 

“My boss was in the hospital,” he blurts, trying to ignore how soft Derek’s sweater is beneath his fingers. “I was too busy to take my lunch on time, that’s why I missed your performances. I love listening to you play. Nothing else could have stopped me from being here.”

Like the majority of the people who talk to Stiles for the first time, Derek looks a little off kilter from the onslaught of explanation. He opens his mouth and closes it again, as though trying to pick what part of Stiles’ speech to address first. Finally he says, “I hope that your boss is doing alright.”

Stiles wants to coo at how sincere he sounds. “Yeah, he’s doing a lot better. He’s actually at the shop now, even though his husband would kill me if he knew I let him behind the register.”

Derek’s lips quirk into the hint of a smile. He changes the subject. “You like the way I play?”

Snorting, Stiles gestures around the park. People are still milling about. Some of them look like they’re waiting for Derek to return to his violin. Some of them are trying to not so obviously listen in to the conversation happening by the tree. The others are simply enjoying the sunshine. “Everyone here likes how you play. You’re very good. Hell, you made me cry just the other day, and that’s a hard thing to do, let me tell you. But your songs have been so sad that I-.” Stiles cuts himself off, cursing. He’s given too much away, and as soon as Derek’s face scrunches up in confusion, trying to work through when he could have done to make Stiles cry, he knows he’s done for. 

“But, you haven’t been here to listen to me play. How could I have made you cry?”

Rocking onto his heels, Stiles tries to figure out what to say that will get him out of being honest. But looking at how earnest and confused Derek looks, Stiles decides that he has to tell the truth. His father always told him that there are a few moments in life that can change everything, and this feels like one of the moments. If Derek gets freaked out and Stiles never gets to listen to him play again, at least he knows that he was being honest. “You live in the building beside mine. I hadn’t noticed until after Harley was in the hospital. Actually, it was the first day that I wasn’t able to come here. And I could hear you practicing from my balcony, which I know is really creepy, but I wasn’t trying it be. I found out on accident.”

Derek blinks in surprise. “You live in the building beside me.” He blinks again. “You’ve been listening to me practice.” A blush appears high on his cheek bones, barely visibly though his beard. “Oh Gods, you’ve been listening to me practice.”

“I’m sorry! I know that it’s super weird and a huge invasion of privacy.” Reaching up, he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the locks. “For the record, I’m not the only one that was listening while you practiced. The woman beside you does too, and sometimes the people above you will slow dance to your songs.”

Derek shakes his head as Stiles’ rant becomes more frantic and impassioned. He reaches out and grabs Stiles’ arm after he nearly hits himself in the head waving them around. “No! It’s alright. I’m not upset that you could hear me. It’s just-. The songs that I’ve been playing have been kind of…”

He trails off, so Stiles supplies, “Sad?”

Shrugging, Derek’s blush deepens. “Yeah. And uh, pining?” He clears his throat. “I was, uh, kind of upset that you weren’t here.”

Surprise makes Stiles jerk back. “Wait? Those sad songs were because of me?”

Heaving a frustrated huff, Derek mumbles, “Laura is going to laugh her ass off for this one.” Louder he says, “Yes? I mean, kind of. I mean-.” Swallowing, he meets Stiles’ questioning gaze. “Yes. I play songs, especially during my practices, that reflect how I feel. It’s how I cope with all the emotions. And I had gotten so used to seeing you here, showing up to listen to me play, that when you weren’t there anymore I got worried. I don’t-. I’m not good at using words sometimes. Music has always been easier for me.”

Starting to piece everything together, Stiles grins and takes a chance. “So when you said the songs were pining…”

Picking up on the teasing edge in Stiles’ tone, Derek scowls at him. “I need to spell it out for you? More than I already have?”

Laughter makes his shoulders shake. He can’t believe this. “You could play me a song, if you’d prefer. Though, I guess you have been this whole time.”

An edge appears in Derek’s eyes, one that makes Stiles’ heart race. “I can give you a song. Wait here.”

Stiles wants to tell him not to go, but at the same time, he wants to hear whatever has Derek grinning like that. Instead he offers Derek a nod, promising that he’s not going to go anywhere.

With so much alluring confidence, Derek returns to his normal performance spot and carefully pulls the violin from its case. He’s still grinning when he puts the bow against the strings. The song that Derek begins is clearly a love song, all sticky sweet happiness and the hope of budding romance. Then, with a wink in Stiles’ direction, the songs takes a faster, seductive edge. Knowing that it’s for him and being able to guess what it means, has a blush showing up on Stiles’ cheeks, hot and impossible to ignore. The violin softens again before the song is over, carefully pulling the entirety of the story together. Without noticing that it’s happening, Stiles has wandered closer to Derek, who watches him the whole time. 

For once, when Derek finishes, the crowd remains silent. They’re waiting for Stiles’ response, as though this too is a part of the performance. The older woman standing beside Stiles elbows him sharply, and he scowls in her direction before stepping up to where Derek waits. 

In turn, Derek raises one eyebrow. “Well?”

The cocky grin and confident attitude is more than a little attractive, and Stiles has the overwhelming urge to kiss him. He thinks that, if he were to try, Derek would want that too. “Go out with me.”

The edge in Derek’s smile softens as his eyes light up. “Of course I will.” 

The response makes Stiles smile, big and dopy. They stare at each other, grinning like fools for a drawn out moment. And then a voice that’s all too familiar calls out, “Just kiss him already!”

Stiles is ready to turn and scowl at where Harley is standing with Matthew, enjoying the show. But Derek steps forward, wrapping the hand that isn’t holding the violin around one of Stiles’ wrists. “Can I kiss you?” The question is soft, spoken just for Stiles, and the rest of the world falls away. 

“Yes.”

Derek smiles, a quick quirk of his lips. And then he leans in. The kiss feels like one of Derek’s songs, sweet and captivating. It leaves Stiles breathless and overwhelmed in the best kind of way, his head becoming dizzy with the sensation. As soon as their first kiss ends, another begins as easy as breathing, and Stiles blissfully ignores the fact that they’re still in public standing in the middle of a small crowd. 

A few feet away, Harley finishing texting him about taking the rest of the day off and then tucks his arm into Matthew’s. “Come on dear,” he says softly, feeling better than he has in weeks. “Let’s go home.” 

Matthew brings Harley’s hand up so that he can place a soft kiss against it. “Don’t look so smug. It’s not as though you got them together.”

Rolling his eyes and refusing to let Matt’s teasing jeer dampen his mood, he glances back at where Stiles is beaming down at his phone, his hand locked in Derek’s. “Maybe not. But I did let him take his lunch on time for once, so I’m counting this as my personal win.”

Instead of teasing him or arguing, Matthew laughs, leading him away from the park gently. “Whatever you say love, whatever you say.”


End file.
